Sons of Storm  One: The Big Colt
by echosdusk
Summary: The tale of Mangkurra, a son of Storm that achieved a strange goal, helping the raising of an odd brindle coloured foal, and yet was never known of as fondly as the sons and descendants of the Silver Brumby. A Silver Brumby Fanfic about the sons of Storm.


Sons of Storm – One: The Big Colt

Part One: Big Colt, Small Dam

_This is the first in a series of stories about the sons of Thowra's beloved brother, Storm. They are set at various times throughout the Silver Brumby Series and include the lives of colts that were forgotten in the stories. This first tale is about Mangkurra, a yearling colt that was half-brother to Son of Storm and grew up with both him and Tambo just after Thowra had taken his place as King of the Cascades.

* * *

_

The snow had melted along the Cascades valley and the herds were gathering to graze on the land that had once been ruled by the great iron horse known as The Brolga, but even with the great tyrant missing, though he was still thought of as alive, there were still fears for the new stallions that spring. They would be competing with the Ghost horse that seemed to disappear and then reappear at different intervals, and Thowra would not be tolerant with them, at least that were the thought. The clearly visible threat however was Thowra's half-brother, Storm, and the great bay stallion was very strong and just as smart as his wind-sibling, the stallions would be in for a tough season if they wanted to claim any of the Brolga's old harem.

Of course it was easier for some stallions that had no trouble at all with Storm, generally his and Thowra's sons or the sons left by the Brolga that had spent the last year under the bay horse's protection. Among the sons of Storm that season, were four main colts of interest that were each between their first and second year. These were a group that tended to stick together and listen to the wisdom of the great horse, not to cause trouble or torment the stallions that were desperate for new mares.

* * *

"Dancing's all very well, Tambo, but if you keep on your hind legs too long you'll get stiff muscles and be stuck walking like Man for the rest of your life!" The big bay, first Son of Storm, nickered impatiently at his adopted brother, out of them all he was the eldest and the wisest, and unlike the black colt, Son of Storm was not the kind of colt that would win through Thowra's dancing methods. Instead he was very big and quite strong, so there were few problems to await him in the future. But he snorted at the black colt's attempt to taunt some of the chestnut fillies that had been daughters to the Brolga.

"If I don't try I'll never know!" Tambo nickered to his brother, but he pranced backward slightly on his white hind socks, and then dove forward. He kicked forward with his hind heels, hoping to clip Son of Storm around the jaw or hit his shoulder. But the big bay was quick to realise this and he stepped back a bit to stand by the big bay yearling, Mangkurra. With a snort Tambo stood in front of Son of Storm and lowered his ears and bared his teeth, eager for a bit of roughhousing to help impress the fillies. But Son of Storm gave a gentle sighing snort and stuck his nose to the ground to nibble the grass, whilst the fourth colt mused.

"Mind yourself Tambo!" A large dark chestnut colt with long legs and a neat stripe nickered to his adoptive brother. "If you start a fight with Little Storm then you'll have the boss over here to nip your ears and tell you to quit it. You know father doesn't want us causing any fights that might panic the mares when there's the scent of many stallions in the air!" The chestnut snorted in amusement, and both Son of Storm and the yearling did the same. But Tambo was no amused, he pressed close, opening his mouth as he straightened up in the hopes of nipping the chestnut's ears. But the yearling was quick to think of a way to prevent any bullying.

"Odd dancing style though, I don't even think Thowra dances to court mares. But what do I know hey?" Mangkurra, the large bay yearling colt nickered to his three siblings. He was younger then all of them and yet he was always hanging around with his brothers. They turned to him and seemed to cross their ears and turn their heads to the side as they considered Thowra's style. But as if in answer to their ponderings something sounded across the valley that put all thought of playing clean out of their minds.

There was a high pitched squeal of delight and the four colts stood straight and silent with quivering nostrils and flickering ears. There was a grand stallion heading toward them, and they were all very excited about it. The sound was familiar, and it reminded all of them about the great cry of the mighty stallion, Thowra. In fact their thoughts were accurate as the mares and herds parted and gave excited nickering sounds and neighs of delight as the great silver brumby stepped amongst the Cascades and the stallions all stared in excitement. The four colts tensed up, they loved to see the grand steed prancing around the valley, doing his little courting styles, and neighing for his brother of the wind to join him. Though Storm was going out to meet him already, the neigh of the silver horse was replied to be the angry call of a stallion, as a big iron beast pranced over.

This was going to be interesting, even Storm stood to the side of the colts to watch what would happen. Either way it looked like there was a fight in store for both the Silver Ghost horse and this elder son of the Brolga, which was probably the troublesome three-year-old, Steel. The iron stallion was indeed Steel, an elder son of the Brolga that had been driven off before Thowra had even won the herd because he had been so vicious, but he would return often to come and annoy the stallions, trying to steal or sneak mares from Storm's herd or just to challenge. So, without fear of any kind of battle, the great silver creamy stallion pranced toward Steel, they were sizing each other up, circling, preparing to fight but waiting for the other to make the first move. Thowra never missed an opportunity, and he dove forward to land a strike, but the iron colt did something very strange.

The young stallion ran!

As the iron horse galloped past the colts, they lunged forward with Storm in anger, screaming together to encourage Steel to disappear. Thowra had halted himself just in time and remained still, staring oddly for a moment. They were very confused by that strange tactic, why had he run? Either way the five stallions rushed after the big iron grey for a little while along the valley, screaming at him as Thowra turned to prance around the mares as was usual. Then Storm halted and his sons stepped beside him, the big bay gave them all a gentle snuff of curiosity, and he butted Mangkurra's shoulder a little playfully, after all, Mangkurra was still only a yearling. Then he snorted at them and began a playful trot back toward the waiting silver stallion, his three brumby sons and the one odd race-colt following eagerly.

Thowra nickered gently to his brother of the wind, and the big bay gave a delightful kick of his heels as he trotted toward the creamy. The colts watched in excitement, how they would love to greet the great stallion in the same manner. The colts sucked in a deep breath of air as the ringing neighs of the greeting stallions echoed around the Cascades and were responded to by many excited mares. Thowra was only here to do his rounds on the Brolga's former herd, and to check if there were any young fillies that he could sneak with him, or if indeed there were any foals he might have a focus on. But once the stallions had finished greeting one another, Thowra's eyes glanced around at them, and they singled out the large Son of Storm, the swift Tambo, the neat looking chestnut, and then they rested on Mangkurra for a slightly longer time then they had before. But then Storm gave a call for Tambo to join them; after all, Thowra had always seemed to show grand interest in the racing colt.

* * *

But the sun began to sink and Thowra would probably disappear within the night, so Tambo pressed close to Storm's side, pleased to be so favoured. Son of Storm gave a gentle snort and turned away from Mangkurra, and the chestnut followed after him. They were going to stand amongst the mob of two-year-olds and rest, but Mangkurra was still far too attached to his mother at that moment to just suddenly leave. So he watched somewhat sadly as the two bigger and elder youngsters stepped to another mob of two-year-olds and settled down for a sleep. Mangkurra looked around him, there were few other yearlings around that were colts, most had been born fillies, and most of the foals present were children of the Brolga from the previous year or the offspring of some of the mares that Thowra had covered. But amongst the mares he stared at, his keen eyes focused on the short little bay mare with the swollen sides that nosed around on her own. He trotted over, though his head was cared low and his eyes seemed to stare down at the ground more then anywhere else.

"What could be bothering my big son then? Did Tambo give you a harsh nip? Or has something spooked you?" The short bay mare nickered to the colt that was both twice her tiny build and yet was also almost taller then her. She was a dear little thing, but the whole herd had been surprised when she'd given birth to a foal that was almost the same size as her. Though Mangkurra was big, she always thought that he was too young and too small to hang around with Tambo, the chestnut, and Son of Storm, all of which could easily give him a beating just to show their place. But then she also trusted those three colts, they were quite bright, and as her son stepped to her swollen side, she wondered at his stooping position.

"Not at all mother, I was looked at by Thowra, but only for a moment. I feel somewhat, proud to have been noticed, and yet sorrowful that I am not as glanced at as Son of Storm or Tambo. Do you think I will ever be worth any greatness that any other stallion holds?" Mangkurra nickered nervously to his tiny mother; she turned to him and pressed her nose to his shoulder. Then she nibbled softly at his neck and then nuzzle and nosed his face. She supposed there could be something in store for him, but it was not for her to say. Whatever happened happened. The colt pressed close to his pregnant mother's side, and then he gave a gentle snort as he stood, and prepared to sleep.


End file.
